


Guide My Way Through The Night

by anyrei



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fisherman!Dean, M/M, author chose to not add more tags so the story isn’t spoiled, happy end, lighthouse keeper!Castiel, soulmate, understated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 12:47:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25969945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyrei/pseuds/anyrei
Summary: At a point where Dean’s life was shrouded in darkness, he needed a guiding light to find his way back.[If you read this anywhere but Ao3, the content was posted without the authors' permission, no one should have to patronize other websites/apps when you can read this on A03 for free!]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 31
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING - PLEASE READ
> 
> There will be no trigger warnings in this fic and as you can see it is also under-tagged for spoiler reasons! This story does deal with heavy emotional topics so if you're sensitive to any triggers, don’t read this fic!
> 
> A million thanks go to [tfw_cas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfw_cas/pseuds/tfw_cas) who beta-ed this for me! ❤️

Their gaze met. Ocean blue meeting spring fresh green. It felt like time was frozen. Like every sound was gone, from one moment to the next. 

The harbor bell chimed in the salty breeze and seagulls squealed over his head, tearing Dean away from the moment. The man with the blue eyes was gone, vanished in the hustle and bustle of the market.

Dean turned around as the large box of today’s catch was put on the ground. “One hundred and fifty,” the older man with the Russian accent stated, before he handed Dean the money and squinted his eyes at him. “You new?”

“Um, yeah,” Dean replied vaguely, trying to shake off his day dreaming. 

“Lobster is good money.” The man flung the stump of his cigarette away. It glowed on the ground for a while before it died. “You only have plaice and bass.”

Dean grunted. “Need money for a few pots.”

The guy lit another cigarette, his other hand quickly working to distribute the different fish on different tanks. “Sell here. With Pjotr. I give good money for fish. Very good money for lobster.”

“Got it,” Dean replied as he folded the bills into his inner jacket pocket. He nodded at Pjotr before pushing the cart with the empty containers back to the jetty. His hands worked through all the steps without thinking. Just like in a trance he stepped onto his boat, loading in the boxes and sealing them, before he released the ropes and went up to the wheel, guiding his boat out of the harbor. 

When he reached the open sea he closed his eyes to the constant melody of the waves, the familiar taste of salt on his lips. The sea was calm today. 

It failed to calm his heart. It had failed to do that for quite a while now.

He steered his boat towards the brittle wooden pier, his eyes automatically gravitating to the top of the cliff, not far from his shack. Dean blinked against the sun, the outlines of the lighthouse dark in the blinding light. 

A feeling of melancholy spread in his chest every time his eyes strayed up to the lighthouse. He wasn't sure why, but he had given up on trying to understand his emotions.

He carefully brought the boat alongside the pier, using the ropes to tie it up securely. The wood creaked with a moan under his footsteps, and Dean wondered if he should replace a few of the planks.

Dean wished replacing old, battered things could always be so easy. His palms were rough from pulling the ropes and his left hand started cramping when he grabbed his duffel bag, making the short trip up to his new house. 

The serpentine path from the cobble beach was narrow and overgrown, a few flat stone slabs guiding his way up the hill through almost yellow grass. 

He was greeted by the squeak of the little iron gate, that was only hanging there on one hinge. A crow flapped its wings, watching him from the roof, instead of the half crumbled stone wall it had sat on earlier. 

A crow was a messenger of death. Dean had heard that somewhere. He looked around the overgrown garden, a gentle breeze pulling at his windbreaker. 

“Not yet,” he murmured as he looked up to the crow. 

The crow just waited and Dean nodded before he went inside.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

  
  


_ Light, Darkness, Light, darkness.  _

Dean couldn’t look away from the pulses of the lighthouse, breaching the night as the pitch black waves rocked his boat. 

_ Life, Death.  _

It was all fleeting, one moment there and the next gone.

The wind whipped the water, spraying it cold and unforgiving into Dean’s face as he secured the net. He tried pulling the zipper on his windbreaker higher, but his gloves were too thick to get a hold of it. He cursed under his breath and walked over to the small cabin, quickly seeking shelter from the harsh weather.

He pulled off his gloves, putting them down on the rack next to the steering wheel before taking care of the zipper. His mouth and nose were covered by the face protection of his jacket now, and his breath against the fabric was quickly heating up his face.

Dean pulled his gloves back on, his eyes wandering to the bright ray of the lighthouse, cutting through the darkness like a sword. It was weird how warm and safe the light was making him feel, every time it finished its three hundred and sixty degree turn and landed back on his position. Like it was connecting him to the land, no matter how far out in the darkness he went.

He would always find his way back.

Just that sometimes…

Dean wasn’t sure he wanted to come back.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

“Bass, plaice and whelks?” Pjotr looked up from Dean’s box with a raised eyebrow. “Still no lobster?”

Another cigarette was lit and Dean wondered for a moment through how many packs the man was smoking every day. “Nope. You’ll take the whelks?”

The man waved his hand before he pulled his ratty, red beanie over his ears. “Yeah, yeah. I take everything.”

Dean waited for the man to distribute the fish and weigh them, before he scribbled down some numbers in a notebook. The fingertips peeking out of the gloves were yellow from the nicotine, dark crescent moons of dirt under his nails.

The man used an old rusty key to open a red metal box, counting the bills as he moved his lips without making any sound. “Here,” he grunted as he handed Dean the money. “Invest in lobster pot.”

Dean hummed and pocketed the money, nodding at the man before he took his leave. The sun was barely up but the harbor was full of fisherman and workers, transporting goods to the local market. 

The town was quaint and there weren’t many people at the market. It was still early though. Not the time folks were usually up. Dean bought a few apples and some meat from one of the vendors, still not in the mood to explore the town and what it had to offer. 

On his way home he passed the harbor again, following the shore line to the north of the island. The noises of the town grew quiet as the waves of the sea got louder.

Dean stopped then, pressing the tip of his shoe into the sand. He swallowed as he felt his throat constricting. A tear ran over his cheek and dropped into the sand, coloring it darker.

He tensed when he suddenly felt a presence behind him. Quickly wiping over his cheek, he turned around with a frown. It was hard to breathe when his eyes met those blue eyes that had been on the edge of his mind since the first time he had seen them. 

They belonged to a man, a little rough looking, five o’clock shadow on the edge of growing into a beard, raven dark and messy hair, tanned skin and plush lips. He was devastatingly handsome. Back in his old life, Dean wouldn’t have even hesitated for a second before flirting with this guy. But those times were over. That life didn’t exist anymore. “Hello?” He asked, wondering why his voice was breaking. 

“Hello,” the stranger replied, his voice impossibly deep.

Dean didn’t know why his heart hurt with just that word. For a moment they just stared at each other, just breathing.

The wind pulled at Dean’s jacket and he cleared his throat. “I… I saw you. Yesterday.”

The stranger gave him a barely there nod. “You’re my new neighbor.”

“Excuse me?” Dean asked. He lived outside the town, he didn’t have any neighbors. 

The man pointed to the top of the cliff. “The lighthouse. It’s mine.”

“Oh,” Dean couldn’t help the small smile.  _ The light that guided him through the night.  _ “My name is Dean.”

The stranger stepped into his personal space. From up close his eyes looked even more otherworldly. No human should have an eye color like that. “Castiel.”

“Um, bless you?”

The man chuckled, a beautiful smile playing over his lips. “It’s my name. Castiel.”

Dean nodded for the man to join him on their way home. “I guess I should thank you for your work… Cas.”

Cas raised his eyebrow but he didn’t comment on the nickname. “Keeping you safe is thanks enough,” he murmured after a moment. 

Something about his phrasing was off. He hadn’t said ‘keeping people safe’ but keeping Dean safe. It felt weirdly intimate, like he already knew him. He could have just worded it weirdly, but something told Dean the man had meant it exactly like he had said it.

They reached the fork in the narrow path. The stony steps up to the cliff and to the lighthouse ahead. Dean’s hut left of them. Dean gave Cas a soft smile and a nod.

He mirrored the soft smile, and Dean watched him for a few moments as Cas made his way up to the white and red tower on the cliff.

The wind was freezing when he turned to his house, greeted by the raven. He hadn’t noticed it being so cold on his way up here.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a calm night. Without any major cities nearby the sky was full of stars. The frosty soft wind didn’t faze him tonight though. 

He felt warm inside his chest every time he looked up there to the pulsing light of Cas’s lighthouse. It was weird. He tried not to question it, or even think of it. But everytime he looked up there he was hit by a melancholy… a longing for something. Something he had missed for a long time. 

At the same time the light instilled this weird warmth and security in him. 

Dean was pulled from his wandering thoughts when the alarm on his watch started beeping. It was time to go back.

So he went through the motions, blocking all his thoughts as he reeled in the nets.

  
  


**…. :::: :::: ….**

“No, there are no lobsters.”

There was the sound of a dull-edged laugh, followed by a cough as Pjotr flicked his cigarette stub away. "One day you surprise me."

He doubted it. There were no surprises left. Only nights, that bled into days, that bled into nights again. Everything was a blur of mindless work, practised hands, hauling the fish on board, processing, freezing, unloading them. Repeat.

Dean took the money and left the market, leaving the noises of life behind him. His feet carried him to the pebble beach near his hut, his eyes never leaving the dark clouds hanging on the horizon, kissing enraged waves. Rain was in the air. He could taste it with every breath he took.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at the sea. Time escaped him. It started to drizzle, the tiny droplets covering his jacket and hair in a pattern of little pearls.

It would be so easy to just step into the water, and never stop walking until he was surrounded by the cold and wet death. But his feet didn’t move. 

It was unfair. Why wouldn’t the sea take him as well? Why couldn’t he move? 

He was startled by the low and loud growl of thunder. A flash of lightning struck out there over the angry waves. 

Dean turned around when he suddenly heard footsteps on the pebbles, coming closer to him. His eyes were immediately trapped in impossible blue ones.

“Hello Dean,” Cas greeted him as he held up his hand. He was holding a lobster pot. “I thought you might want it. I don’t need it anymore.”

The oddness of the moment made Dean laugh. Without thinking he took the pot, his fingers brushing over Cas’s for a short moment. The other man was warm and something just pulled Dean closer towards him. “Are you in cahoots with Pjotr?”

Cas tilted his head as he frowned. It looked very endearing. “Who is Pjotr?”

“Fish Market? Old Russian guy. Always wears a red woolen hat. Heavy smoker?” Dean explained, but he could already see that there was no recognition in Cas’s eyes.

“I.... I don’t really talk to people,” he finally explained, and Dean couldn’t really judge him for that. 

“You’re talking to me,” Dean stated as they started to walk together in the direction of their respective homes.

“You’re different,” Cas finally replied when they reached Dean’s house. 

He didn’t elaborate on that before Dean watched Cas climbing the stone slabs up the steep hill to his lighthouse.

“Thank you for the pot!” Dean shouted after him when his confusion about their conversation had settled. 

Cas paused his ascent and turned around, giving him a dorky thumbs up before he continued to walk home.

Dean waited until he couldn’t see him anymore before he entered his hut. 

  
  


**…. :::: :::: ….**

A soft melody played on the rusty radio, accompanied by white noise and the splatter and drumming of raindrops against the kitchen window. Dean was lying on his cot, staring at the ceiling. It was getting dark outside from the thunderstorm hitting the island. 

It didn’t take long before the beam of the lighthouse illuminated one of Dean’s walls, casting the shadow of a cross on it from the window grill.

Dean closed his eyes, but he still couldn’t shake the image of that cross.

The last time he had seen crosses there had been three of them. It had also rained that day. He hadn’t cried. The Heavens had done it for him, like it was doing now. 

But there was something different today.

Dean reached out to touch the wall when the light beam wandered over it. He waited in the shadows for the light to return. It did everytime. Like clockwork. Like something Dean could depend on. 

Today Dean felt comfort.


	3. Chapter 3

“Lobster!” The excitement in the old man’s voice tickled a smile towards Dean’s lips.

“I was lucky this morning,” Dean replied with a shrug, noticing that the money Pjotr was giving him was significantly more than usual. Not that he cared about the money, but he needed to buy some essentials. “Thanks man.”

Pjotr gave him a bright smile and Dean could see that a few teeth were missing. “Bring more lobster tomorrow. Lobster make good money.”

“Yep, know the drill by now.” Dean nodded at Pjotr before he went over to the market stands. He bought some fresh food, and oil for his equipment and firewood, that he loaded on his carrier to bring back to his boat. 

The sea was calm when he untied the tow. Seagulls screamed over his head, greeting the first rays of the morning sun. He threw one of the leftover fishes from the barrels in the air, watching how one of the birds caught it, slinging it down in one go.

On his way back to his little wooden jetty his eyes drifted up to the lighthouse. The white stripes glowed in stark contrast to the red ones in the morning sun. 

There was this pull in his heart. Like something little and fragile was moving inside of him. Something warm and light. Something he thought he had lost and didn’t dare to name.

The color of the sky turned from soft rosé to blue, and all Dean could think of was Cas’s eyes.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

He pulled the little handcart carefully up the hill, the lighthouse coming closer every second. 

A little willow was standing beside it, its leaves rustling in the wind. 

When he got closer the wooden door opened, and Cas appeared with a confused look on his face. “Hello, Dean,” he greeted him as Dean stopped in front of the door.

“Hi, Cas. Um, I brought you some firewood.” He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to give him a sheepish smile. “Kind of as a thank you for the lobster pot.”

“That wasn’t necessary but…” Cas suddenly smiled at Dean, and it was probably the most breathtaking smile Dean had ever seen. “I very much appreciate the gesture.”

“Yeah, I thought as much. Since you said yesterday that you don’t like to talk to people. Plus this island isn’t exactly tree covered.” He let his gaze wander over the stony and barren land. 

He liked it though. It was a harsh, rough and unforgiving island. But it was also honest and direct. Very different from big city living.

“Do you want to come in?” Cas asked suddenly, pulling Dean out of his musings.

He didn’t know what it was about Cas. It was like he was the moon and Dean the water, being pulled towards him. “Are you inviting me out of courtesy, or because you want to?”

Cas looked down at the sparse blades of grass, a soft smile gracing his lips. “I want to.”

A soft nod later Dean followed Cas inside. The inside was paneled with dark sturdy wood that gave the interior a homey and cozy atmosphere. The fireplace crackled on a low flame, and Dean could see that Cas didn’t have much firewood left. 

The lower room had a wooden table, two chairs and a small kitchenette. There was also an old looking couch right next to the cast-iron staircase that wound up high and up to the next level. An old oriental rug lay between the couch and the fireplace, making Dean wonder if Cas spent time down here, maybe reading in front of the warm and inviting fire.

“My bedroom and bath are on the second level. My workspace is on the third,” Cas explained after a moment. “It’s not much, but I like it.”

Dean turned around to look at him with a nod. “I get it. It’s cozy. And very quiet.”

Another soft smile flitted over Cas’s lips. Lips that were hard to look away from. The man was incredibly attractive. He gestured for Dean to sit on the couch. 

It was weird how comfortable the silence was between them when they sat next to each other. Dean didn’t feel the need to fill it with words. They both just watched the fire, dancing and crackling, enjoying the warmth it radiated. 

Dean didn’t know how long they sat together like that, but he noticed that he hadn’t felt this relaxed in a very long time. He inhaled a few deep breaths before he turned his head to look at the man sitting right beside him. “I had no idea how much I needed this.”

He didn’t need to elaborate. Cas seemed to understand him. He nodded softly before he replied, “I needed this, too.” The confession was quiet and reluctant, almost as if he was surprised by his own assessment. Cas looked up at the ceiling. “In a few hours I will watch over you again. The sea will be calm though.”

“That is very good to know,” Dean replied quietly before he slowly got up, stretching his arms over his head and listening to the sounds his bones were making. He was getting old. “I’ll help you carry the wood inside.”

Cas followed him outside and wordlessly took the other half of the firewood, carrying it inside alongside Dean. They stacked it on the other firewood in the corner, right next to the fireplace. Dean’s fingers brushed Cas’s, and for a moment he felt like an electric charge was being exchanged between them. The look Cas was giving told him that he had felt it too.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said with a soft smile. “Maybe you could visit me again tomorrow?”

“I would like that.” 

  
  


**…. :::: :::: ….**

Dean hung up his clothes to dry before he sat down at the table and ate some eggs and bacon. His eyes wandered to the kitchen window and Cas’s light house, that stood dark but strong against a starry night.

He couldn’t get the man out of his head. Dean knew nothing about Cas, but at the same time he felt familiar and like a friend who had always been in his life. Like a missing puzzle piece that just clicked with him.

He would have laughed about the irony of fate. He had come here to die. He had given up on life. But somehow this weird man was feeding that little broken flame inside of Dean’s heart, and had started to make it beat again.

For the first time in a long while Dean actually looked forward to the next day.


	4. Chapter 4

The sea was indeed calm. Just like Cas had said. The full moon was mirrored in the ripples of the ocean surface, brightening the night. Dean rubbed his hands together and blew into them to warm them up before he left the cabin to go on deck. 

His eyes had never left the light of the light house, calling out to him like a siren song; just that in this case the song was leading him to safety and not to his death. 

He wondered if Cas was looking in his direction, if he was really out there, watching over him. Like a guardian angel.

He scoffed at himself. His sarcastic side wondered if he just badly needed to get laid, that he was seeing things that weren’t there. That he didn’t deserve a second chance at anything. Dean had made a decision coming here.

And that decision had been delayed by his cowardice. No wonder he was looking for straws of hope that would distract him from his goal; from the reason he was out here on the sea.

Because the sea was missing one Winchester. It had already taken his father, his mother and his brother. And Dean should have been there with them on the boat on that night, instead of being drunk at home, after getting scolded by his father for being worthless and being told that he needed to clean up his act. That had been his father’s last words.

And now he was alone in the world. No one cared if he stayed or joined his family in the ocean. No one would notice. Everyone he cared for had already left this world.

Dean stepped up to the railing, looking at the pitch black abyss of water beneath him. 

Just one step.

The light beam stroked over his skin, and with it Dean heard Cas’s voice in his head.

_ Maybe you could visit me again tomorrow? _

Cas would be waiting for him. Dean closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Just one more day, he promised himself.

  
  


**…. :::: :::: ….**

It was already seven in the morning when Dean had finally sold all his fish, and even a few lobsters to Pjotr. He was walking over the marketplace to search for something special. Something he could bring for Cas. 

Dean was hoping to see that smile again.

It wasn’t easy to find a gift. He wanted it to have meaning. Something special to say goodbye.

When his eyes caught the flower market stall they wandered immediately to the sunflowers. They stood tall and bright and warm over all the other flowers. Like they were watching over them.

He bought one with a soft smile, hoping Cas would like it.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

He didn’t know why his heart was hammering the way it was when he arrived at the lighthouse. He hadn’t felt like this since puberty, and Dean tried not to be annoyed with himself. 

All anger dissipated from his mind when Cas opened the door with wide blue eyes. Dean immediately pressed the flower pot into his hand, trying not to make too big of a deal out of it. “For you.”

Cas’s smile robbed the breath out of Dean’s lungs as the other man stared at the flower in awe. “A sunflower.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied quietly before he shrugged. “A cozy home should have a nice plant, right?”

Cas invited Dean in before he put the pot on the table, right in front of the window. He watered it carefully with a glass of water that was standing in the kitchen. It was nice to watch him being so focused on a task.

“It is perfect, thank you,” Cas said when he was done, and walked up to him. “I thought we could share a meal today. Would you like that?”

Dean nodded, trying his best not to get lost in Cas’s eyes as he stepped closer, into his gravitational pull. “What did you have in mind?”

“I have mutton, cabbage and potatoes. I could prepare a stew. It’s a good meal on these cold days.” His voice sounded soft and quiet, intensifying the tension between them.

“Put me to work, Cas. I’ll help you.” He hoped his voice didn’t crack.

For a long moment they just kept staring at each other before Cas reached out and touched Dean’s hand. “Alright. Follow me.”

Cas’s hand was warm and strong. Dean needed to feel more. More of this strength that he was missing so desperately.

He intertwined their fingers and closed the gap between them, getting lost in Cas’s eyes. “You feel that, too, right?”

Cas’s tongue licked over his own lips before he nodded. ”Yes.” The word was barely above a whisper, and it drove Dean insane with the need to unravel the man in front of him.

Dean reached out to Cas’s cheek with his free hand, holding him as he searched his eyes. “Before we cook… I want… are you okay if I…?

“Yes,” Cas simply replied, obviously knowing what Dean was asking. “Please.” The plea was what broke Dean’s last line of reluctance.

He leaned in, gently drawing Cas’s beautiful lips into a feather light kiss. A kiss that evolved into more kisses, a rising tidal wave of desperation and neediness that led them to the second level of the lighthouse. 

They helped each other out of their clothes as they kissed on Cas’s bed, touching and exploring each other. Dean felt like he was in a dream state. This had nothing to do with lust, but more with finding a part of him that he had thought had been lost. Taking this part and fitting it back together where it belonged.

It felt profound. The more Cas’s fingertips glided over Dean’s heated skin, the more he felt like his whole heart was being healed and mended, the fire that had been there stoked to a burning hot flame.

Maybe he could have this. Maybe he needed to give this a chance.


	5. Chapter 5

“You can smile,” Pjotr commented when Dean watched him weighing the fish he had caught during the night and early morning hours. 

Dean shrugged but he couldn’t be annoyed. The stew from last night was still warming his belly, just like the thoughts of sharing the bed with Cas. “I forgot how it felt to be happy,” he murmured, more to himself than as a reply.

Pjotr clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Be like this and lobster will come. See? You caught a lot. More than yesterday!”

Dean laughed at that and took the money from the fish merchant. “I’ll try that fishing method.”

He whistled when he walked over the market and steered towards the flowers. He bought a few blue cornflowers because they reminded him of Cas’s eye color.

He couldn’t wait to see him again, feeling his lips against his own, feeling complete and safe. 

Everything else was just background noise. 

He laughed when he ran up the hill, flowerpot under his arm, taking two stone slabs at a time. The door of the lighthouse was coming closer. Would Cas anticipate him again?

Dean was out of breath when he stopped at the door with a frown. He knocked at the door, still smiling. “Cas? It’s me, Dean.”

There was no answer. 

“Cas?” Dean asked carefully as he grabbed the door handle. It was stuck, but with a soft push it sprung open, the old hinges squeaking with the movement. 

Dean stared in shock at the view in front of him. The furniture was broken and the room was full of dust and cobwebs, a dead sunflower left on the table.

  
“What?” He stumbled into the room. “Cas?” 

A few quick steps brought him onto the second level. Cas’s bedroom. It was the same picture as the first floor. Everything was broken and covered in dust and cobwebs.

It looked like the lighthouse had been empty for a century.

Dean slowly sat down on the bed, trying to understand what was happening. How was that even possible? Where the hell was Cas? He needed to find him.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

It started raining when Dean ran down into the little town. Pjotr was starting to pack up his stall when Dean nearly slipped in a puddle in front of him. Cold drops of rain water fell from his hair and into his eyes, and he angrily wiped them away. “Pjotr. What happened to the lighthouse? With Cas?”

Pjotr turned around with a frown. “Who?”

“Cas!” Dean repeated as he tried not to yell. “Dark hair, blue eyes, not very big on talking. He runs the lighthouse.” He pointed up the cliffs to underline his point. 

Pjotr’s frown deepened. “No, no. Lighthouse has no owner for over fifty years. No one goes up there. It’s dangerous, cursed.”

“What do you mean? Cursed?” Dean asked with an exaggerated tone in his voice.

Pjotr shrugged and packed a few more boxes. “I am here for thirty years. So many stories about this place. I know for sure it is abandoned.”

“But you must know Cas… Castiel,” Dean tried again, his voice breaking.

Pjotr shook his head. “I don’t know,  _ izwiní. _ ”

Breathe. He couldn’t breathe. Dean just nodded and ran, ignoring Pjotr shouting after him. He ran and ran before he slipped and fell on his way back up to the lighthouse. 

He looked up. Dark and heavy rain clouds hung threateningly over the building that looked empty and dead now. “No,” Dean breathed out before he scrambled up and ran again. 

He hoped this had all been a nightmare, but this hope was shattered when he entered the lighthouse again. “Cas…” Dean walked up to the dead sunflower. It was the one he had given Cas. He recognised it, although it looked like it had been dead for a very long time now. How could that be?

Like in a trance, Dean searched through the room. For anything. For answers. For a little proof that Cas had been here. 

The stairs shook when Dean climbed up to the second level. There was an old broken oil lamp and a night table. Dean opened it and found a few books. One of them was bound in leather and didn’t have a title.

He opened it, holding his breath. There was an old photograph. It was black and white, but age had turned it yellow. Dean gasped when he recognised the man in the photo, standing next to the lighthouse. It was Cas.

What the…

He turned the photo around, noticing that it had the number 1914 written on it. This… this couldn’t be. This couldn’t be Cas!

He thumbed through the pages, noting that it had handwritten entries. A log. It was written in blue ink, the handwriting formal but clear. Dean’s fingers stroked over the name of the person who had made the entry. Castiel Novak - 03/04/1914

Dean shook his head, turning the pages until he reached the last entry. 

_ July the 18th, 1914 - Castiel Novak _

_ The world is coming to an end. For everyone, not just for me.  _

_ Two days ago I killed fifteen sailors.  _

_ For years I felt not myself. Like something was missing in my life and it tore me apart. I started drinking, trying to numb those feelings inside of me. _

_ I neglected my duty. Fifteen people had to die because of me. _

_ I can’t live with this guilt anymore. I decided to follow them into the sea. _

A tear fell on the ink, smudging the word  _ sea. _

Cas… Cas had taken his life that day. Dean was sure of it. He had made the same decision that Dean had made for himself before he had gotten here.

His whole story… it was almost the same as Dean’s. How could that be? 

Nothing made sense to Dean anymore as he quietly left the lighthouse. 

  
  


**…. :::: :::: ….**

It was dark outside, the moon was hiding behind black clouds. Dean’s feet carried him down to the ocean, following the sound of the waves. 

He was sure he had lost his mind. He didn’t even know what was real or a dream anymore. 

He fell to his knees at the pebble beach, the stones pressing into his flesh. The ice cold water surrounded him like hands of the dead, wanting to pull him into their dark and silent kingdom.

Maybe this was fate showing him that he shouldn’t have waited with his decision. 

No one was waiting for him to fill the emptiness in his heart. To make him whole again. The same reason that had ruined Cas’s life; the loneliness, knowing that one was broken and the final piece was nowhere to be found, had ruined Dean’s life too.

Maybe Cas had been his soulmate. The one he had waited for his whole life, but who had taken his own life over a hundred years ago.

He wondered if he would see him again when he followed him into the waves.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean stood up slowly, like in a trance he started to walk. He had made his decision. No more delaying. No more hope. No more distraction.

One step after another.

The cold water surrounded him, the waves trying to pull him in. 

He blinked when light suddenly broke through the clouds, dissipating them as they revealed the full moon. A strong hand grabbed his shoulder before he heard a voice. His voice. Cas.

“Dean, stop.”

Dean swallowed dryly, not brave enough to turn around. 

“Please. Dean. I need you. I’ve waited so long.”

A tear ran over his cheek before he slowly turned around. Just in time to see massive wings, burning away in bright light, the wind carrying the ashes of the burned feathers out into the ocean.

Blue eyes met his and he instantly got lost in their endless depths. Drowning and letting go. Not of his life though.

Letting go of all the shame and guilt and sorrow. Because Dean was running now. Running towards that light, towards that part he had been missing. 

To the light that guided him through the night.

“Cas,” he breathed out, not trusting his own voice.

“Hello Dean,” Cas replied softly. The smile was back, and Dean finally felt like he could breathe again.

“I don’t understand.” He shook his head. “Are you… am I dead?”

Cas shook his head. “I was supposed to save you… but at the same time… you saved me. I didn’t know… you were the one I was waiting for my whole life.”

Dean wasn’t sure if he was understanding everything. He wasn’t even sure if he was dreaming. But if he was, he hoped he would never wake up from it.

“Cas… the lighthouse…”

He gifted him with another soft smile, a sad one. “It died when I left for Heaven. But with a little bit of work I’m sure we can turn it back into a new home. Together.”

Dean still had so many questions, but he decided they had to wait because…

He closed the gap between them and drew Cas into a deep kiss. One that finally made it clear for him that Cas was really in his arms. Warm, strong and solid. Dean could feel his heartbeat under his palm. “Don’t ever leave me like that again,” he whispered against Cas’s lips.

“I’m staying. Right by your side.”

Dean still had questions but for now… 

For now, this was enough.

**…. :::: :::: ….**

The first snowflakes fell on Dean’s nose and he scrunched it, rubbing the coldness away. He could feel Cas behind him, and he smiled when he turned around and Cas handed him a hot cup of coffee. “You worked enough for today. Come inside. The stew is ready and will warm you up.”

“I know something else that will warm me up,” Dean commented with a smile. He was rewarded with a blush from his angel, who smiled and intertwined the fingers of their free hands.

Two months had passed. Dean finally knew about Cas’s past. He had been a guardian angel, helping lost souls. But when he had been assigned as Dean’s Guardian, he had remembered his human life and he had recognized Dean as his soulmate. A soulmate he had never met in his human life and had always waited for. Like Dean he had always felt broken as a human, fleeing into alcohol to numb the abyss of endless loneliness he was feeling.

Heaven granted them a second chance. To finally meet and have an actual life.

Cas only had to fall and become human again. It hadn’t been a question for his angel. Dean still called him that, loving how the endearment made Cas blush. 

The image of his wings that night at the beach had been burned into his memory as the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Dean had also learned that Cas’s grace had been holding the lighthouse together. So for the past few months they had worked to repair the building, making it their home.

Every day with Cas felt like a gift, and although Dean still had days of melancholy, days that were harder to get up and days where he just needed to cry about the loss of his family, it felt like with Cas at his side it was getting easier to manage. He knew he could get through it. 

Cas was giving him hope. 

  
  


**…. :::: :::: ….**

  
  


The sunflowers rocked back and forth in the wind. Seagulls sang their song of freedom and storms ahead as Dean put his arms around Cas. “Come down to the pebble beach with me?”

“Of course,” Cas replied with a soft smile.

It was their tradition. Every year they would go down to the pebble beach and pray for the lost ones. For Dean’s family and the sailors that drowned. It had helped both of them to heal. It had helped both of them to accept their happiness.

The lighthouse stood tall, in fresh painted white and red colors on top of the cliff, and Dean was proud that it wasn't just a home to them but it was also working again. 

Guiding people through the night. Just like it had guided Dean towards Cas.

He pressed his lips to his neck, whispering, “We should buy a new lobster pot. Guess what? Pjotr still wants more lobster.”

Cas started laughing, and it was still the most beautiful thing in the world for Dean.

  
  


**The End**


End file.
